


The Ugly Truth

by DrummerDancer



Series: The RoyEd Christmas Drabbles [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrummerDancer/pseuds/DrummerDancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ed falls and Roy learns the ugly truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ugly Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The Ugly Truth  
> Author: drummerdancer  
> Series: AU  
> Characters/Pairings: Roy/Ed, Winry  
> Word Count: 1600 total (11x100, then 200+300)  
> Rating: T  
> Summary: In which Ed falls and Roy learns the ugly truth.

He really should’ve seen it coming.

As Roy continued to scoop ice into the cloth towel on the kitchen counter, he briefly reflected on what had led up to the current situation.

They had been walking home, same as they always did after dinner. Snow was falling steadily, leaving some particularly slick spots in their path. Several times, Edward had almost fallen, his automail freezing up and making it hard to walk. Roy had offered to hold his hand so he didn’t fall—honest he had!—but Edward had refused, every time.

Which is why he had eventually fallen anyway.

***

It was only when Roy finally got Edward seated and situated on the couch did they check the extent of what happened. From what Roy had seen, Ed had simply tripped and fallen on the steps, catching himself on his hands which were fine save for the initial cold. 

But Edward had insisted he check his knees, particularly the automail one, so Roy did—or at least, he tried to. Leather pants, as it turned out, weren’t the easiest things to roll up from the ankles, and in the end, Roy simply had to take them off from the waist.

***

Edward bitched and moaned the entire time Roy itched the pants off, and as soon as they were discarded, Roy discovered why. His flesh leg had all sorts of discoloration and bruising on his knee, causing Roy to question how much ice had really been on the stone steps. But his concern immediately tripled as he turned to the other leg, a steel prosthetic that should’ve shown no signs of wear and tear.

Instead, his eyes saw a giant crack that ran from shin to knee, a canyon inside what should’ve been solid steel. He immediately went for the phone.

***

The phone lines to Resembool were dead from the snow, leaving Roy slightly panicked. Ed was in a lot of pain, he was sure; his stumps had begun to ache long before they had left the restaurant that night, and the temperature outside had only continued to decrease. That, combined with his bruised leg and broken automail, wasn’t a good combination.

Roy put a makeshift icepack together and headed for the living room, grabbing his ignition gloves off the coffee table on his way. It seemed contradictory, getting Ed ice while building a fire, but…what else could he do?

***

The fire was lit soon after, and after he’d fetched a red blanket, the two of them had sat on the couch, Ed’s legs in Roy’s lap. Roy simply held the icepack on Ed’s flesh knee, not knowing how or what he could do for the automail. They’d never really discussed the possibility that this might happen, that Ed might break it while staying with him. He didn’t dare touch it without permission, though; he had a feeling Edward would bite his head off at the contact.

So instead, he sat there, listening to Ed’s breathing, wondering what to do.

***

They finally got through to Resembool two days later, after the storm had cleared and the phone lines had been restored. Winry had sounded furious on the phone, but her immediate willingness to come there gave Roy much needed comfort. If she had refused…he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done.

Hanging up, Roy glanced over at the couch. Edward had camped out there the past two nights, refusing to come to bed with him and rebuffing his offer to share the couch. As such, Roy had gone to bed alone, the emptiness settling in. 

Edward had stayed quiet since.

***

When Winry had finally arrived, Roy could’ve thanked the stars and the sky. Finally, he had the solution, the one person who could fix everything!

He followed her into the lounge, anxious to get this thing fixed. Edward had been silent, simply laying there on the couch and nodding to his questions like a zombie, no emotion at all.

It had been unnerving, and his bed at night had been a frozen hell without him.

So it came like a punch in the gut when, after all his eager anticipation, Edward looked at him crossly and said, “Go somewhere else.”

***

He had left the house, heart sombre and slightly hurt, but nonetheless fine in principle. He knew the automail was a personal thing for Ed; of their many nights together, nothing struck him more than how, more often that not, Edward tried to keep his clothes on. At first, Roy had genuinely thought Ed forgot they were still on, like they felt like a second skin to him or something.

But the trend kept emerging at random, like something secondary beyond Roy’s scope was triggering it. So instead, he said nothing, for what could he say to make it okay? 

***

The automail was done by the time he got back. Roy had visited the grocery store and picked up dinner for the three of them that evening. Ed was bouncing around and happy, his usual self already back in full force. He stretched easily, extending his arms lazily overhead, then announced that he was leaving to take a shower. 

Ed left the room, leaving Roy alone with Winry, who looked slightly haggard but pleased even so. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he was quick to act on it. 

“Winry, could I have a word with you…?”

She nodded.

***

He told Winry how Ed had acted, going into great detail about how withdrawn and uncaring he had seemed, how simply uncharacteristically cold he had acted towards Roy. Winry looked at him curiously, recognition not in her eyes.

“He’s never acted that way in front of me,” she said, her voice dismissive and sure. 

And Roy believed her as, in the back of his mind, a bleak fact began to take root, shattering all he had thought they’d accomplished, all that they had bonded and laughed over, breaking it apart until it was an ugly truth.

Ed didn’t trust him. 

***

Dinner went without a hitch, though Roy’s mask of feigned contentment was a thin one under the burden of his new knowledge. Edward laughed like nothing had ever been wrong, and Winry was relevant and kept the conversation going while Roy added little. He barely touched his food, which the other two thought was delicious, a sure sign that something was deeply wrong.

They both saw Winry off at the train station before making their way home. It was silent for the most part, though Roy hoped Ed thought it was a comfortable one. 

For he just couldn’t pretend anymore.

***

That night, Edward clamored up next to him in bed, his sleeveless shirt and boxers covering him. And when he initiated the first kiss, Roy returned it, his mind desperate to believe his theory wasn’t true.

But he had to know.

So, when Ed straddled his lap and startled taking things deeper, Roy slid his hands up Ed’s sides, pushing the shirt up as he went, desperate to know he wasn’t right. 

When he got to the shoulders, something happened. Ed froze for barely a fraction of a second, then suddenly, Roy felt himself being flipped to top, him kneeling between Ed’s legs.

“Let’s…do it this way,” Ed panted, his voice low and withdrawn.

And Roy knew right away why Ed had done this because he had done it time and time before. Only now, Roy knew what the cause was.

It was him. Something about  _him_  made Ed feel uncomfortable, made Ed feel withdrawn, made Ed want to hide his flaws and vulnerability. 

Roy cleared his throat, his mind racing to say something. This was wrong, and it was definitely his fault. 

But Ed was pushing him on, radiating his disapproval of the silence. 

So instead…Roy continued.

***

Hours later and Roy was still awake, unseeingly staring at the ceiling. Edward was curled up in the blankets, bangs plastered to his sweaty forehead, his breathing calm and peaceful.

See…he was at peace. Roy hadn’t done anything wrong. 

He had tried to convince himself of that, but it felt like lead in his stomach and sand in his eyes. Telling Edward the automail didn’t bother him wouldn’t be a big deal, but having to voice the sentiment alone was a sign he’d failed.

He groaned in frustration, his anger directed towards himself. All the times he had teased Edward about his height, his looks, his automail…it was no wonder he felt self-conscious about it now!

And he couldn’t just fix it with kind words and half-lidded eyes, either…Roy had tormented him for years and years about it, his own need for a laugh in the day blinding him to the damaged he had done. That trust was gone, a fleeting little thing that he had probably never had.

And really, was there anything he  _could_ do? He couldn’t just up and say it out of the blue—that’d be a slap to the face for Edward, who probably just assumed he was doing a good enough job of concealing it that Roy simply didn’t notice. Edward didn’t want to  _make_  it an issue, which was probably why he had all but ignored Roy while his leg was broken; because the leg  _was_  an issue, one that he didn’t want in the forefront of Roy’s mind.

He closed his eyes.

Selfishly…he wished he’d saved Ed from falling on the steps that day, from cracking his automail, from revealing the ugly truth.

For the truth was a bitch, and one that he simply couldn’t handle.


End file.
